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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28700115">Again and Again (and Again, and Again, and Again)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SprungSick/pseuds/SprungSick'>SprungSick</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Not Beta Read, Right now it's just angst but it'll get better i promise, Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Slightly Gory Imagery, Temporary Character Death, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Too much? Probably, a lot of death tbh, he just gets hurt, implied starvation, not a lot but its definitely there</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:42:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,717</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28700115</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SprungSick/pseuds/SprungSick</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy didn't know much. </p><p>His legs knew how to run both away and into distressing situations, his lungs knew how to choke on fragments of debris - yet, despite it all, his knowledge fell short and the world turned away. </p><p>His body knew how to defy the laws of life. </p><p>He didn't know much, not even his own end.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dream SMP Ensemble &amp; TommyInnit, No Romantic Relationship(s), Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), obviously - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>MCYT Fic Rec</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Again and Again (and Again, and Again, and Again)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>ewifwfinweifnew rip-</p><p>I don't know what brain juice I was inhaling while making this but got damn</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: Temporary character death, suicidal ideation, starvation, graphic imagery </p><p>Please, take this from my grubby little hands before I decide to delete the tenth thing this week;;</p><p>Seriously though, this gets pretty dark. Stay safe lads</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As he watched the dusty spires of what he used to call home crumble, he could only focus on one thing. </p><p>He should be dead. </p><p>His fingers - buzzing, all-too-living blood coursing through every seam - pressed against his lips, touching. Vaguely, he knew he should be scrambling away from the still-igniting explosives, grappling past the deafening roars and securing any sort of safety. He stayed frozen, forgotten, in one of many craters. </p><p>It didn’t make sense. He had felt the razing of his flesh, had felt the all-encompassing slip he had been met with only twice before. The writhing in his chest still burned of iron and just-past pain. </p><p>He had lost his last life. His soul should have shattered with the last of Techno’s blows. </p><p>Somewhere above him, he heard shouting - in a way, they harmonized, united under a banner sewn with a thread of strife. The war must have continued without him. </p><p>A sudden, achingly human wish for Tubbo to be okay choked him more than death. </p><p>He felt himself sob - he couldn’t hear over the monster that was war, yet he had grown accustomed to feeling heat in his eyes and liquid in his throat - for a reason he didn’t particularly understand. Something blocked his open lips from his fingers, muffling each of his already soundless gasps. </p><p>A furtive glance down told him what it was - a soft cloth the size of a blanket, the edges torn and color seared off. He didn’t remember where it came from. He didn’t remember it’s original state. The only thing his mind supplied was its presence the previous two times he had respawned. </p><p>Someone must have draped it over him. How nice. </p><p>Before he could think, something exploded against the back of his head. As his vision whited out and he slipped away, he cursed whatever higher power had granted him a last few moments of anguish. </p><p>*** </p><p>He woke up again. </p><p>The battle must have finished, the deafening booms of gunpowder replaced with lifeless silence. His ears only caught the faint patter of rain - it must have left alongside its creator. </p><p>His fingers dusted across charred material. He must not have let it go. </p><p>Finally, the realization that he was awake - again - shocked him into existence. It just didn’t make sense - no one respawned past their third death. That was established, that was natural, that was law. </p><p>He levered himself off his bed of rubble and saw red. </p><p>A cloak - its deep scarlet and pristine condition only characteristic of Techno’s - shielded his lower half from the world. Atop it, a small golden totem split right between the eyes. That itself seemed strange; a used totem would shatter, leaving only shards of emerald and gold as its husk.</p><p>The thought of Techno slammed into his skull. The mystery of his survival slipped away from his focus. </p><p>Techno killed him, even with the knowledge of his last life. Techno destroyed his world. Techno had stolen his allies, had taken his friends, had ripped away what little family he had created. </p><p>Techno had betrayed him, after everything he had said. </p><p>Electric hatred dissolved his insides. He twisted the cloak around his waist, stuffed the halves of the totem into his pocket, and ran. </p><p>He ran opposite of civilization, away from the ravaged wastelands caused by his own damn games. It occurred to him - so suddenly that he nearly killed himself on a stray patch of debris - that there were no search parties, no one looking for his body. His mind quelled the excuse of ignorance with an image; him, dying for the third time, his bloodied ribs and heart exposed to both allies and foes as he fell from the last preserved strip of land. </p><p>They must have fled, ignored preserving him for his burial in hopes of saving others from their own. He told himself not to care much. If leaving him to rot kept Tubbo from doing the same, he couldn’t complain. </p><p>Techno’s apathetic eyes seared into his pupils. His feet pounded harder into the dust. </p><p>He didn’t bother to grab any sort of weapon, any sort of food; his hands were already occupied with his blackened blanket, he didn’t need anything else. A part of him wondered if he should find something to fix the gaping hole in his shirt. </p><p>His mind refocused when he broke the treeline, the wreckage disappearing into thick trunks. Malice covered every inch of his body, reformed him into something harsher. More deadly. </p><p>He didn’t know how he was alive, nor did he know why he couldn’t think past the rage choking his mind. He didn’t know much of anything. </p><p>As his chest burned from exertion and death, he decided on just one contrived thing. </p><p>He was going to kill Technoblade. </p><p>*** </p><p>His first death in the wild was from an explosion. His legs had failed just in front of a recess in a mountain, the darkness mocking his vulnerability. </p><p>The mobs zeroed in on him quicker than vultures to their prey. Phantom pains still lined the outsides of his arms - even respawned, he swore that the lightness in his arms was from being deprived of chunks of flesh. He woke up in the morning, clinging to his blanket. </p><p>With a weary shake, he stood up again and ran. </p><p>***</p><p>His fourth death in the wild was from starvation. It was then that he remembered that scars remained after respawning, a reminder of each and every slip. </p><p>Apparently, the withered remains of his muscles counted as scars.</p><p>He died a lot more often after that. </p><p>Energy no longer pushed his body, the little food he bothered to scrounge and eat doing nothing to stave the mass deficit he created. He had, in essence, found his stasis - constantly on the brink of death, unable to truly die. </p><p>The only thing keeping him moving - no matter how slowly, no matter how painfully - was the promise of destruction. The promise of murder. </p><p>He kept his hands wound in his blanket and pressed forward. It was all he could do.</p><p>*** </p><p>After he finally stumbled into the tundra, his deaths became more frequent. Both the cold and his own body tested just how many respawns he could work through, just how many snowstorms he could weather. </p><p>He took to wearing a portion of his blanket around his face, nearly completely covering his eyes. Despite the revulsion that bubbled up his throat and out of his mouth, he managed to sling Techno’s cape around his shoulders. It did little to warm his beyond-repair body. </p><p>Eventually, he stopped making it to nightfall. He would only rise the next morning alongside the distant sun, or in the middle of the night. Thankfully, fatal temperatures would save him from having to bear the darkness for too long. </p><p>He felt completely, utterly, empty. The only thing left thrumming underneath the shell of his own skin was anger - hollow, small, so lacking it barely made up a percent of his being - against Techno. He had nothing else to follow. </p><p>He was going to kill Technoblade, his dead lips murmured. </p><p>When he collapsed into the snow for the thousandth time, he hoped Technoblade would instead kill him. </p><p>*** </p><p>He found Technoblade on a bright day. </p><p>Light glittered off layers of dazzling snow, its vastness playing patterns along the center of his dizzy vision. Barely, just barely, he had seen the wisps of smoke - with its background the pressing sky, it was a miracle he hadn’t closed his eyes. Aching rage resurfaced nonetheless. </p><p>Techno sat peacefully on the stairway of his cozy little cabin, turned back displaying a camouflaging white cape. </p><p>He sprinted forward at the very thought. </p><p>The loud crunching of his steps never met his ears, the lively breaths from his lips stifled beyond recognition - he could only focus on the remnants of anger powering his body. He watched Techno turn - apathetic eyes, eyes that saw him die - and watched him stutter into standing. He watched him leap over the railing, he watched his hulking form take a step forward, he watched him stretch out his weaponless hands. </p><p>Many deaths ago, he had watched him destroy everything he held dear. </p><p>“Tommy?” Techno’s lips moved, the sound dissolving in the haze pouring from his skin. “T-Tommy? Is that you?” </p><p>He lurched forward and scratched. </p><p>Hands easily caught the wild swings of his arms, easily relinquished him of his only weapon - he didn’t care to notice. He only knew that he had to fight, to attack, to inflict upon the destroyer the same damage he caused him. If only the power behind his hits matched the fog replacing his brain. </p><p>“Tommy?” Techno’s face twisted above his. He pulled the last of his tendons into another thrash. </p><p>“Tommy, please, I- you’re alive- Phil! Phil!” </p><p>The damned cloak fell from his shoulders, the poorly-adjusted clasps snapping free from all the movement. He didn’t need it anymore, his sense of feeling having been killed long before - he continued to writhe with imaginary strength while easily forgetting the gasp from above. </p><p>“Oh shit, Tommy- Phil! Please! Tommy’s alive and he’s-” </p><p>He drowned out the words with a practiced mantra. The very same mantra drowned out his own thoughts. </p><p>Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. </p><p>The grip on his wrists harshened, leaving only his legs to weakly attack. “Stars above, Tommy-” </p><p>Suddenly, darkness completely ensnared him. Sturdy arms immobilized his already spineless back, an armored chest restraining his hands between it and himself. The trap stayed there, freezing him. </p><p>Confusion sprung from the nothingness inside him, overpowering the anger. </p><p>Without the anger, he had nothing to keep him moving.  </p><p>"I have him, Phil- he couldn't overpower me on a good day; this is definitely not a good day-" </p><p>He felt himself slipping. </p><p>With the last dregs of what ungodly creation kept him moving, he forced his hands up and onto Techno’s cheeks. He pulled his face down, forced himself to look into the eyes of a man who harnessed war to reduce him into dust. </p><p>The man who never died against the kid who never survived.</p><p>It was obvious who would win. It was obvious who would die. He still couldn’t make his mind come to a conclusion.</p><p>“Please,” He whispered. He didn’t know the intent behind the word, didn’t know if he said it all - he knew nothing, nothing, past the harsh slip of his own loss of life. </p><p>“What-” </p><p>End him. Permanently. </p><p>He didn’t know which ‘him’. </p><p>His vision failed him for what he hoped to be the final time. </p><p>***</p><p>He woke up. The hope that came with every slip broke just a touch more. </p><p>The ground underneath him felt strangely comfortable, as if he had properly placed his blanket down before dying. Cold didn’t bite at the bridge of his nose, the muscles of his legs didn’t cramp in morning atrophy. It felt like he had been transported back to a time before it all. </p><p>To a time before his hunt for Techno. </p><p>His eyes shot open before he could think. </p><p>Thick comforters pressed him into what couldn’t be a bed - Techno’s house only had one bed, his own - yet they did little to hinder his vision. He quickly registered the bookshelves lining the wall, the cloak hanging above the hatch, his shielding blanket folded sloppily on a cramped desk. </p><p>He spotted the very man he had to kill sitting in a chair, arms crossed and eyes half-closed. </p><p>With new strength - he didn’t question where it came from, just sluggishly decided it felt good - he ripped himself away from the comforters. Techno’s eyes snapped into focus before he could land a solid hit. </p><p>“Tommy- what are you-” </p><p>Fear contorted in his throat as Techno stood - it felt so alive, so sharp, he had forgotten how it felt despite greeting it millions of times before - and he immediately redirected. Instead of aiming for Techno’s unguarded neck, he grabbed for his own chest. He didn’t know why. He never knew why. </p><p>“Tommy-” </p><p>Techno motioned to grab some part of him, immobilize him. Memories of Dream sliced through his eyes fresher than ever, sending him careening away in a crash of knocked over items and limbs; the only part of him not focused on completing his goal wondered why the sickly images were coming back now. In an overwhelming haze, he searched the area for any sort of weapon. </p><p>“Tommy,” Techno called, hands up for no discernably safe reason. “Calm down, we have to-” </p><p>He braced without cause and attacked. </p><p>Easily - so easily that vibrant frustration splattered against his fear - Techno avoided his outstretched hands. With a simple slide, touch, and push, he felt his side land against the same material he had awoken upon. He scrambled into himself, torn between attacking again or following the familiar terror urging him to freeze. </p><p>“You can attack me later. Right now, you barely have enough energy in your system to stay alive,” Techno placated. Tommy didn’t miss the way he stood in between him and his only exit. </p><p>He responded with a snarl and slammed his spine into the wall.</p><p>“Look, I get it-” Techno flicked back to the hatch as if searching for something- “You don’t like me. I- look, we don’t have time for that. We just barely got you stable, and that potion isn’t going to last long at this rate. I need you to stop moving.”</p><p>An image flashed in front of his eyes, a background of ravine walls framing a manic figure. The sides of his neck stung, the pressure in his chest burning from keeping still. He tried to drown out his arrested breathing with a furious shake. </p><p>The whites of Techno’s eyes widened, the wool of his coat rising quicker with his chest. “Hey now- I need you to calm, please- we can sort this all out after you eat and rest-” </p><p>“Is Tommy- oh.” </p><p>Blond hair poked out from his exit, followed by a panicked face and deceiving frame. His chest froze, similar to how it did when he watched Phil retrieve his family from the hell that was his story. </p><p>“He woke up in a panic, now he’s hyperventilating,” Techno wrung his hands, making way for Phil to stride forward. “This is why you shouldn’t have left me alone with him-” </p><p>The word slithered into his mind, oozed into the pathways already corroded by veiled threats and grins. It compounded with the dusted-grey sky, the barely-reformed bridges burning, the destruction of each and every moment passed in his body. </p><p>He just had to move forward.</p><p>Something inside him snapped. </p><p>The veil he had so desperately clung to - the image of a villain he had followed so devoutly - no longer hid the extent of his past sin. The two-dimensional cartoon he fought against no longer distracted him from the brimstone of his own damnation. </p><p>He didn’t know which person he was thinking of.</p><p>Sudden panic replaced his old memories. The sensation of isolation, of burning, of pain - it took control of his body and urged him to run. </p><p>He kept one eye on the blanket as he exploded upwards. He barely made it one step. </p><p>“Are you even listening?” Techno huffed, his light shove a fatal stab as he landed back onto the sheets. “I need you to calm down, you can’t be moving around like that-” </p><p>“I need you to breathe with me,” Phil interrupted. He motioned his hands up and down, bringing focus to the rise and fall of his ribs. The recollection of his third death still broke his pair of ribs - he ignored the deep breaths and desperately prepared another escape. </p><p>“Do you want that banner?” Techno guessed, finger pointing to the last of his possessions. “It’s really destroyed, where did you even get-” </p><p>Techno cut himself off at his aborted inhale. In a flash, the fabric protected his chest with its faint smell of stone. </p><p>“Okay, okay-” </p><p>He knew their eyes were on him, yet the shame never settled into his skin. He could only focus on what little shelter remained in the burned black cloth so evoking of his death. </p><p>“There we go, breathe with me. You’re doing good, you’re doing good.” </p><p>The vivacious beating of his heart slowed, the expanding of his lungs less frantic. Slowly - likely slower than they wanted, slower than anyone wanted - he eased himself back into equilibrium. Stasis. </p><p>He could never achieve stasis. He didn’t know when he stopped feeling the sting. </p><p>“Okay. There we go,” Techno cautiously pulled out a chair, motioning Phil to do the same. “Calm. We’re all calm here.” </p><p>Phil huffed a short laugh - the sound vibrated painfully against the glass of his composure. “Yes, we are all calm.” </p><p>Silence stretched as he sucked in a few more gasps. In the corner of his eye, he watched them shuffle from their spots. Inexplicably, dread froze distant in his abdomen - awaiting, anticipatory, the expected cling wrapping tight around his throat and pulling. </p><p>“Okay. Let’s- let’s talk,” Techno started. “First off, how are you alive?” </p><p>He opened his mouth, ready to progress and talk and be. To move forward and change and lose more pieces of himself. To be him, the kid that kept pushing forward no matter how little he had left to move. Nothing. </p><p>With the levity and finality of what he had thought death to be, he realized that he couldn’t anymore. </p><p>He had bent too far in his goal to reach the heavens. He had bled too long for his weakened heart to continue beating. He had run too fast for too long, died too many times to be revived, felt the lashing of humanity too often. </p><p>He couldn’t continue. </p><p>When sound left his lips in a disbelieving laugh, he knew he was done with it all.</p><p>“How much longer must I be stuck in the hell of my own mind?” He no longer felt in control of himself, no longer felt grounded. “What terror have I done to make living such torture? I should have died back then. I should have died!” </p><p>Techno and Phil shocked up, their forms stiffening as he laughed at his own damnation. He watched on with morbid amusement - their faces could be replaced with any number of other betrayers, their position switched with the array of destructors in his life. </p><p>“What do you mean?” Phil pressed. </p><p>He hummed an unstable tune, thumbing along the mocking reminder of his inability. Just another needle in his skin, another arrow in his head. At least this one promised temporary reprieve. </p><p>A sidelong glance granted him the sight of Techno. He chuckled.</p><p>“I should kill you, you know. I probably have to.” </p><p>“Why?” </p><p>To distract from the familiar demons stabbing into his neck. To distract from the constant push and pull of his existence, to distract from his insides tearing so thin he doubted them there at all. To distract from the entirety of his damning life - one that not even death could give reprieve from. </p><p>No words left his mouth, just a bitter grin. He decided he didn’t know. </p><p>Techno leaned forward, elbows coming to rest on his knees as his eyebrows did the same against his eyes. “I understand you’re- going through something, right now- but I can’t handle threats at the moment. As long as you’re under my roof, you don’t say stuff like that.” </p><p>He laughed carelessly, rocking in time with his spinning world as the sound grew unhinged. </p><p>“Tommy-” </p><p>“Kill me then!” He giggled, burying his cheek in charred material. “Kill me! Let me finally stop living, make me die!”</p><p>Techno reared back, composure breaking. Something vulnerable flashed in the downturned quirk of his lip, something akin to pain and regret; he expected it to disappear, yet it stayed with wobbling perseverance. </p><p>“Every day alive is just another day for loss,” He moaned, the action paving the way for a sudden hitched sob. “What new thing will I lose? Will it be my friends? My soul?”</p><p>The fabric against his eyes coaxed another ragged wail. </p><p>“What did I do? What did I do? Who did I piss off so much to make everything this fucking shit? I can’t deal with this. I can’t-” </p><p>“Tommy, you need to breathe,” Phil stated. The very mention of his name cracked something deep inside his mind.</p><p>“Tommy. Tommy. The story of Tommy,” He chuckled, disbelieving, heat welling in his face well past the point of melting. “The story of fucking TommyInnit is a story I can’t continue. I can’t do it, I can’t fucking- my end should have been with L’Manburg, by your own fucking blade. My end should have happened, it should have happened by now. You called me Theseus, you told me to die like him, to end like him, remember? Well, buckaroo, I’ve died a thousand times more than he ever did. And even as I bleed and drown and follow the only steps the world lets me walk, my end is nowhere in sight!” </p><p>“Your end-” </p><p>“Doesn’t fucking exist!” The force of his own voice shattered the insides of his throat. “I’m stuck! Fighting again and again and again for something, anything, and getting nothing as a result! Not even the powers above want to stop my torture! Why can’t I fucking die?” </p><p>Silence. His words rang deep in his own mind, pushing in the same places he thought he had hidden under layers and layers of stone. The only thing keeping him from scratching through his skull was the comforting material grinding against his cheeks. </p><p>“Tommy.” </p><p>He snorted at his name, not bothering to temper his volume or dull his point. </p><p>“What- what happened to you?” </p><p>His gaze shot up to the living before him, anguish crumbling dust into the airways of his lungs. For a moment, he could see his own face reflecting in the horror of their eyes. It looked broken, destroyed, used again and again and again to retell stories of hardship and despair. </p><p>“Too much,” He whispered.</p><p>His mind splintered, the last of whatever energy he had been granted dissolving under the weight of his past memories. Coherent thought stopped arriving, his surroundings stopped registering; he couldn’t see the hell-fire, and that itself was enough.</p><p>Numbly, he felt himself slip away. </p><p>He didn’t know what he wanted.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey! Honestly, I'm mostly posting this because I didn't know if I would be overcome with a bout of xjdjdxjfjfkdkdkdk and delete all my work on this idea. I genuinely like the premise and I like working on it, but I've scrapped everything so often in the past week that I couldn't know for sure. </p><p>Lol the next chapter will be some actual comfort, I'm not a heathen;;;</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Eyy chads! Thank you so much for reading!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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